


Find You

by dehydratedmeat



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, moomin - Fandom, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Invisible Snufkin, M/M, my god you guys i have so much planned for this, snufkin has depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-02-29 01:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18768205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dehydratedmeat/pseuds/dehydratedmeat
Summary: Snufkin doesn't come back in spring and Moomin goes looking for him. (Updating after schools done)





	1. A Bad Dream

Snufkin was walking along the path he usually took when he went south for the winter. He revelled in the crunch of the dry leaves under his boots, dotting the forest floor with speckles of red, brown, orange, and gold. He couldn’t help a small smile. Tiny things like this were the only things he really treasured.  
...

It was getting dark. Snufkin began his ritual of putting up his tent and making some of his usual soup. He pulled out his switchblade and started to peel a carrot he had snagged from someone’s garden a while back. He settled into a motion that was almost second nature to him. As he peeled, his thoughts drifted to moominvalley. He didn’t regret leaving without saying anything. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to say anything to moomin even if he tried. He finished peeling the carrot and began chopping it into thick slices. And besides, he was supposed to be fine on his own. He would just take as long as he needed to get better, and then spring would come and everything would be alright again. He finished chopping up the carrot, letting the slices fall into the pot, and got to work on a potato. He just needed some time alone. That always made him feel better when he was overwhelmed. The skin of the potato peeled back easily as he ran his knife through the flesh. But this...this felt different. It felt like, instead of there being too much feeling, there was too little, like there was a chasm deep inside of him that sucked in everything around it. Snufkin began the same process as he had with the carrot, cutting the potato into chunks. But it wasn’t like he was a stranger to this feeling either, this feeling of loneliness. He liked being alone, but...this was a different kind of loneliness, the part he shoved to the back of his mind whenever it came up. The part that made it feel like there was a rock in his stomach that weighed down his steps and made it hard to get out of his tent in the mornings. The part that whispered possibilities that snufkin didn’t want to acknowledge. But he knew it would be okay. He would have the whole winter to get better. He just needed some time to himself and everything would be f-

“Ouch!” Snufkin saw a damp spot soaking through the fabric of his gloves, where the knife had skipped and cut his thumb. He sighed, tossing the rest of the potato into the soup and putting his switchblade away in his knapsack. He rooted around in his pockets for a piece of cloth to bandage his wound. Finding the cloth, he held it in one hand and started to take off his glove on the other hand. As Snufkin removed the glove, he winced at the familiar sight of his empty sleeve, seemingly suspended by nothing. 

...

Moomintroll awoke with a start from his midwinter slumber, sitting upright. His heart was beating fast from the adrenaline. He covered his face with his hands and, whether because of the suddenness of the situation or the sick feeling in his stomach, he started to cry, tears coming out in shaky breaths. He was angry at himself for waking up again and he was angry at Snufkin for leaving without saying anything. Snufkin. Moomintroll took an uneven breath and tried to go over the dream while it was still fresh in his mind. What had happened to Snufkin? He had been making dinner, and then he had cut himself, and then...his hand had been invisible. Like ninn-

Moomin’s thoughts were interrupted by his rumbling stomach. He was thankful for the interruption, as he had been subconsciously digging his claws into his sides with worry and he only now realized that it hurt. He shrugged his blanket off and walked downstairs into the kitchen. Moominmama always left some jam in the cellar, just in case someone woke up hungry. Moomintroll padded down the steps and retrieved a jar of cranberry jam. He sat himself down at the kitchen table as he ate. The memory of the dream was fading, but he still felt a sense of urgency, like snufkin needed help _right now_. He felt like he needed to run after him. But...it was just a dream, right? Moomin sighed, eating another spoon of jam. What would Moominmama say? 

“My brave little Moomintroll, I know you’re worried about Snufkin, but he’s a resourceful boy. He can handle himself. Come back to bed. You’re still growing, dear. You need your sleep.”

Moomin felt a little better, imagining Moominmama was there. He decided she was right and headed back up to bed, leaving the jam jar on the table. He tucked himself back into bed and felt himself slip away into a dreamless sleep. 


	2. Pancakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i love moominmama so much

As Moomin slept, the world outside Moominhouse was changing and growing. The snow was slowly melting, and grass shoots were starting to poke their heads above the earth. It was official, spring had come to Moomin Valley. The smell of Moominmama’s cooking was what woke Moomin up. It started with a nose twitch, and then as the familiar scent of buttermilk pancakes wafted by his nostrils, he found himself immediately fully conscious. He hurried out of bed, rushing downstairs to the sight of Little My and Moominpapa sitting at the kitchen table. Moominmama was washing the dishes. It seemed as though they had already eaten. Light was filtering in through the windows, illuminating the dust particles hanging in the air. 

“Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?” Moominmama greeted. 

Before Moomin could open his mouth to speak, Little My took the opportunity:

“He probably slept like a log, seeing as it’s almost midday.” 

“I slept just enough, thank you very much.” He punctuated his sentence by folding his arms and giving Little My a look. Little My just rolled her eyes.

“Would you like some breakfast, dear?” Moominmama cut in. Moomin hadn’t noticed as he flew down the stairs, but he was rather hungry.

“Yes, please.” Moomintroll sat at the table next to his father, who seemed to be in a kind of trance. He was smoking his pipe and humming quietly to himself, staring off into space. He hadn’t noticed Moomintroll come down. 

“Good morning, Papa.” It was as if someone had turned on a light switch in Moominpapa’s brain. He looked over to where his son was sitting. 

“Ah! Moomintroll!” He greeted in his usual grandiose tone. “I was just thinking about the title for my next novel. What do you think of: ‘The Travels of Moominpapa’?” He made a flourish with his hands, to make the title sound bigger.

“It sounds very nice, papa.”

“Yes, yes, very nice, but-” he paused to take a drag of his pipe- “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and now it just doesn’t sound right.” He sat back in his chair and turned his pipe over in his hands.

“Well, whatever title you come up with, dear, I’m sure it will be wonderful.” Moominmama spoke, as she passed by and put a plate of pancakes in front of Moomintroll. Moominpapa hummed in response, already deep in thought again. Moomintroll murmured a “thank you” to Moominmama and started on his pancakes. The taste was familiar to him. They were always light and fluffy and filled with love. Every spring, he looked forward to them. But...something felt different this spring. He couldn't put his finger on it. Spring was his favourite season, but for some reason he couldn't remember why he liked spring so much. Of course, he liked the birdsong, and the flowers, and the cool rain- he had another forkful of pancake- and he liked fishing and looking for shells on the beach and making flower crowns and lazily resting in the shade and the smell of soil and the sound of the harmonica and-

...

_Snufkin. He was late._

The sudden realization caught him off guard, and he inhaled a piece of pancake. He dropped his fork with a clatter and the rest of the family turned to look at him hacking and coughing his lungs out. Little My was the first to react. She took a running start and shot herself at Moomintroll’s stomach, and the force was enough to dislodge the offending food item. The pancake went flying and splattered on the wall opposite Moomintroll. There was a silence as everyone watched it, too dumbfounded to do anything. Moomin’s cheeks burned. There was a silence, then Moominpapa spoke.

“Ah! The _Exploits_ of Moominpapa! Yes, I must write that down!”

“Really, dear.” Moominmama sighed.

“What was that all about?” Little My asked, eyes drilling into Moomintroll.

“I-uh…” Moomin broke eye contact. “Mama, is it okay if I go outside?” He turned to look at Moominmama, who was putting dishes away. 

“Yes, dear. Just be sure to finish your food first.” She dusted off her apron. “And put your dish in the couch when you’re done.” Moomin had started inhaling his food the second Moominmama said ‘yes’. He rushed over to the couch to put his plate away and he was out the door before anyone could say anything else.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehe its gonna get angsty soon


End file.
